I have come to understand the segmentation of the life we live. We have a good time, then we have a bad time. The highs and the lows, the ups and the downs, the wows and the eews, the 'please screw me' and the 'oh screw you'. Time is periodic, the vicious circle, so to speak, continues eternally. But with my unmatched ingenuity and astute observational skills, i have come to formulate life and emotions.
Allow me to demonstrate.
When you're 5, it's the worst time of your life, pre nursesry, people think you're cute and pull your cheeks, flash pictures, give hugsie pugsie. Life's a lovebathed mess.
But it improves. You're 10. Oh You start understanding, appreciating and loving, the difference between girl and boy. Fashion Tv. Puppy love. You know of love, not lust. A smile is more precious than a hug. By far the most romantic you'll ever be in your life.
However things start rolling downslope from that point onwards. Hit rockbottom when you become 15. Puberty hits in. Urges and hormones govern your actions. On top of that, you have to "focus" and remain "un-distracted" for your 10th grade. Classic Mind versus Body. The verb 'do' gets a whole new meaning. Mayhem personified.
Things eventually settle down. Skies get blue-er, nights get long-er. And you're 20. Mind & Body are unanimous once again. It's Legal. Welcome to Adulthood. And the Pleasures. Parents can't ground you. You can frequently take trips down the slippery slope of alcohol and dope, end up semiconscious with more-than-easy desperadoes in dark loomy flats with numbing music and indiscriminate love. Sheer bliss.
But It's too good to be true. Adulthood brings responsibility. When you reach 25, you don't have a home, no girlfriend, no three night parties. Instead you have a job, a career, pimply colleagues, dictating bosses. You're overworked and underpaid, superbusy and underlaid. You KissAss and get KickAss. Welcome to Hell on Earth.
You slog and drag, your oversized chairstuck butts to see the dawn when you're 30. You're hard work has paid off, you have some saved up some cash, a nice car, friends, and ASSISTANTS. You party like you'll never party again. Shake like Shakira. Rediscover the lost child in you. Last 'shots' at life.
But oh, you've reached 35. Disaster. Marriage. And you're trying to have kids. Bravo. You wonder what went wrong. How'd you end up with hormonal neurotics and careless crappers. Life is now all about the diapers and poopers. You fight, you cry, and you try. Man down, over and out.
Oh but there's a ray of hope, for the survivors. Alas, you're 40. Kids have grown up, your better half has better people to hang out with. A taste of independence. You can go out of the house, play pool, smoke a cig, a couple of beers and same ol' good friends. You've done your part, an attempt at making a difference, and you've lost honorably. Now it's your time to give up the reign and lay back. aaah. Is this heaven or what.
And then comes the end. You're 45. Say hello to arthritis and osteoporosis, blood pressure and diabetes. You can no longer stand up to things or make things stand up. You look at your kids going through the same cycle, you reflect on the amazing journey of life, you smile, cough, have a stroke and die.
R.I.P amigo.
P.S. : People may live longer, but they are never able to come out of Stage 45. It's a dark time. (Shudder).
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